by Trace, Piper
“I…don’t know that I can. I mean, I’ll do it again!” she added quickly. “That’s not the issue. I want to do it again, Mr. Hawthorne.” She looked down, slightly embarrassed, and added softly, “You’re right, I enjoyed it. But as part of my job? It’s just…“ Yet she couldn’t seem to find an argument. She had a quick mind and had been holding her own against experienced lawyers for years, but at that moment Evie couldn’t seem to formulate a logical reason why she couldn’t provide travel arrangements, personal shopping, and blowjobs for her new boss.
“Yes, Evie, you can. I practice a great deal of discretion and I highly value my privacy and yours. If my assessment of you is correct, the arrangement should suit us both nicely.” Ford was in persuasion mode now, and she’d seen firsthand that Ford always gets what he wants, at least in business. Was this business? She wasn’t sure.
Of course the thought of sucking Ford’s cock upon his demand thrilled her. How often do people get to live out their sexual fantasies? And here was her chance to experience her fantasy of being a sexual plaything with someone handsome and interesting, in luxurious surroundings, with no strings attached. Besides she could leave anytime she wanted if the arrangement no longer suited her. She wanted to do this. She would do this. So it was unconventional—so it was crazy—who cares? No one even knew she was there. A shiver of excitement went through her.
Ford seemed to want to prove he knew what she wanted. He pulled her firmly against his chest and she was very aware of how close his mouth was to hers. She could smell his cologne again and the scent memory flashed in her mind of being between his legs with his erection filling her mouth. It made her knees weak.
“Agree, Evangeline,” he growled. “I want this, and you will give it to me. You are going put my cock in your mouth whenever I ask.” She groaned low in her throat as his controlling words sent shivers of lust through her body. She was helpless against her powerful longing—for Ford and for his domination of her.
Her nipples instantly tightened and she was sure they showed obviously against the front of her dress. Ford looked down at her ample breasts, the nipples protruding against the cheap fabric. “Your body agrees with the arrangement, Evie.” She longed for him to touch her taut nipples, to suck on them, pinch them. But other than his hands on the back of her head a few minutes ago, pushing his erection deeper into her mouth, Ford had barely touched her since she’d gotten there, had not even kissed her. And she was aching for it. So much so that she didn’t just want to say yes, she wanted to negotiate for a better deal…like unlimited use of his cock or his tongue for her pleasure.
His mouth was so close to hers, and his lips looked soft and ready. If only he would press them against hers. Maybe if she agreed, he’d kiss her. “Yes,” she said softly, her lips barely moving to form the word.
“Yes what?” Ford’s voice held the thrill of victory and, still holding her wrists, he wrapped his arms around her waist, pinning her arms behind her and crushing her body to his. “I want to hear you say what you just agreed to. Out loud.”
“Yes, I’ll suck your cock whenever you want, Mr. Hawthorne,” she breathed.
“Good girl, Evie.” He let go of her immediately and stepped away without the kiss she was hoping for. Disappointed and a little embarrassed, she blinked and looked around not knowing what to do.
He clasped his hands together in front of himself and smiled slowly. “I like the way that sounded. Say it to me again.”
She may as well own it. Taking a deep breath, she looked him square in the face and said matter-of-factly, “I will suck your cock whenever as you want me to, Mr. Hawthorne.” Ford breathed in deeply and held his wicked smile. They stared at each other for a moment, and the realization of what she’d just agreed to sank in.
He clapped his hands together, dimples dazzling. “Excellent! We’re going to have so much fun, Evie. I promise.” He said it like they’d just agreed to have lunch at the Plaza.
She knew she’d done a poor job negotiating, but if she was going to be giving him daily blowjobs, surely it wouldn’t be long before they were finally having sex, and then she could get the satisfaction her body was aching for from him.
She took a deep breath. Her ex-boss was probably trying to have her killed, and she’d likely have her sexy new boss’s cock in her mouth every day, on his demand. Could her life get any more bizarre?
*****
On the other hand, she hadn’t yet met Charley.
~CHARLEY~
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“SHALL I SHOW you where you’ll be staying?” Standing in his living room, Ford transitioned back into the gracious host as if he and Evie hadn’t just taken a break to have oral sex.
Evie followed him up the stairs, careful not to trip as she ogled his ass. The man had a magnificent rear end. Stopping in front of the first door they came to, he pointed to the closed door. “This is your room. Mine is the last door at the end of the hallway.” He nodded toward a pair of heavy, wooden, double doors and Evie’s eyes lingered on them. Would she ever be behind those doors? Did she want to be?
Pushing open her new bedroom door, Ford stepped back and graciously motioned her in. “Welcome, love, to your new home.”
As she brushed past him into the room, she took in his enthusiastic smile—the look on his face both proud and excited like that of a little boy’s with something to show off—and it warmed her. After the night she’d spent tossing and turning in the cut-rate motel room alone, worried and scared, damned if this didn’t feel a million times better. It was as if she’d just arrived on Fantasy Island and was getting a tour of the resort. Anything could happen here. All her fantasies could come true.
But the room was so breathtaking that for the span of four heartbeats she forgot all about the hunk of man behind her. It was spacious, with natural light pouring in from six over-sized, paned windows on three sides of the room, softened by wide-open, gray-blue, silk drapes that filled the expanse from floor to tall ceiling.
The gleaming hardwood floor was covered with a large, subtly-patterned, pewter and cream rug, thick and soft under her feet. It was the kind of rug you want to roll around on. Naked. With a sexy man. She pressed a toe of her sandals into the plush depth and pulled her mind back from the tangent with effort.
An over-sized light fixture gleaming with clear glass embellishments hung from the middle of the coffered ceiling…not exactly a chandelier, but more a deconstructed version of one. But what drew Evie’s attention the most were the flowers. Four different arrangements—the most gorgeous she’d ever seen—were placed throughout the room, some with roses, some lilies, some lilacs and hydrangeas. The room was exquisitely beautiful and Evie stopped short a few steps in, overwhelmed by what she was seeing.
“I hope it’s okay.” Ford’s voice was laced with that unfamiliar edge of doubt. “I didn’t know which flowers you liked, so I just got a variety. I know it must be strange to move into someone else’s house, so I wanted to make it as nice for you as I could.”
She dumped her duffel bag and purse off her shoulder onto the pristine rug and winced inwardly at how coarse her belongings looked among the finery. “It’s just beautiful. So beautiful,” she said simply, turning to him. “I love it.”
He let out a breath, visibly relaxing, and ran a hand through his tousled hair. “I haven’t ever had anyone stay with me before, so I wasn’t sure what to do. Most of these rooms up here are empty other than mine. I had this stuff brought in last night and this morning so the room would be ready for you. I tried to pick things I thought you’d like.”
Evie’s gaze had wandered again, but she turned back to him, narrowing her eyes. “This isn’t your guest room?”
“No.” Ford looked surprised. “No, this is your room. I made it for you. I don’t have a guest room.”
Her chest felt heavy with affection and gratitude. No one had ever done something like this for her. But she choked back the feelings of endearment. This was a job, she reminded her
self. He was not available for affection. And of course Ford would make it perfect. He did everything perfectly. His maid’s room probably had a bowling alley and an art gallery in it.
“Do you really like it? I didn’t know about your knife throwing. If it’s too girly for you, you can change anything you want.”
She laughed. “No, I wouldn’t change a thing. It’s perfect. You nailed my taste.” Actually, he’d nailed taste she didn’t even know she had.
“Good. Please, look around!” As he gestured around the room he was that excited little boy again.
But she didn’t move. As much as she knew she shouldn’t ask it, the curiosity burning in her head would not be suppressed. “You really don’t have a guest room?”
“No.” His voice held a hint of astonishment, as if the idea of letting someone spend the night at his house was preposterous. “I like my privacy,” he amended quickly, shoving his hands in the pockets of his trousers and looking around at the sumptuous furnishings.
“Then when someone spends the night, where do they sleep? With you?” She shut her mouth so fast she nearly bit her tongue. Oh my god, why did I ask that? Squeezing her hands into fists, her fingernails bit into her palms. What is the matter with me?
Cocking his head, he frowned at her and she shuffled her feet under his stare. “Though I’m quite surprised you asked that, I’m going to answer it.”
“No. I’m sorry,” she blurted out. “I don’t know why I asked.”
But he ignored her protest. “I rarely bring anyone into my home except my friend Charley.” The tone of his voice was thoughtful. “In fact, I haven’t slept under the same roof with someone since my parents died. Not even the staff stays in the house.”
“Oh.” She dropped her eyes, her voice a whisper. Her pulse had picked up tempo and she reached up and smoothed her hair, tucking it behind her ear. “Sorry, I didn’t mean—”
“Until you,” he interrupted, his voice firm. “No one until you.” He looked away, his hands still in his pockets. “I know you are going out on a limb by coming here, Evie. It’s an unusual arrangement I’ve asked for, but it’s also a bit of an experiment for me as well.”
He didn’t bring women home. Strange for a single man. She’d known all along Ford was eccentric. Now she wanted to know why. Why didn’t he bring anyone home? And if it was such a stretch for him, why did he decide he needed a live-in assistant? And who was this Charley?
She remained quiet, not knowing how to respond. Sighing, he clasped his hands behind his back and shrugged. “You’re taking a chance on me, after all. You are trusting that this job is the right choice for your future.”
Right. The job.
She didn’t know what to say. “Hopefully having me at the house won’t be too much trouble.”
He grinned. “I’m not concerned about that. There are strict house rules on discipline, should you get out of line.” He winked, his dimples flashing.
She sucked in a breath. “I’ll be sure to follow the rules then.”
He stared at her a moment before responding and she couldn’t look away from the intensity in his eyes. “I sincerely hope you do not follow the rules, Evangeline. I’m counting on that rebellious streak of yours to get you into trouble. And then I’ll be forced to discipline you.”
Her muscles in her core clenched with excitement at the same time her belly clenched in fear, catching her off-guard with her immediate physical reaction. Even at the distance she was, she could see the darkening of his eyes, could feel the air between their two bodies thicken. He closed his eyes, breaking the spell.
“Please.” He nodded to the room, sounding distracted. “Look at everything. Let me know if anything should be changed.”
So she turned away too, trying to shrug off the moment. She explored, taking in every lavish detail, trying not to let her mouth hang open. She wondered with amusement if she’d find a glass slipper in the oversized closet.
Catching herself, she mentally clamped down on that part of her brain. No fairytales for her, not after her stupid indulgence with John. Evie didn’t scare easily and John had done an excellent job of terrifying her. No way was she getting hurt like that again.
Do your job. Get your money. Square things with John. Disappear. Start over. That was the plan and she was determined to stick to it. Besides this heart-pounding lust slash business arrangement slash pseudo-sex thing she had with Ford? It hardly had the makings of a fairytale, even if it was set in the closest thing to a castle Evie had ever been in.
Fingering the thick, silky, drapes bordering the windows that were taller than her, Evie nodded practically. These quarters would do quite nicely while she used this job to get what she needed—knowledge, money, safety and maybe some mind-blowing sex. The corners of her mouth curled into a secret smile. Not believing in fairytales didn’t mean she couldn’t have any fun.
Turning to Ford, she smiled warmly. “You did this all last night?”
“Well, and this morning. Yes.”
“Unbelievable.” She looked around. The furniture was exquisite. Mirrored nightstands of the sort you might see in the bedroom of a forties Hollywood starlet flanked the bed. A long, over-sized dresser finished in a lovely white glaze stood opposite the bed, topped with a massive mirror that nearly reached the ceiling. Even securing that mirror to the wall must have taken three workers.
“How did you get it done so quickly?” Evie didn’t think she could even get her landlord to her apartment that fast for an emergency plumbing situation.
Looking at his feet, Ford chuckled wryly. “Money.” He looked back up at her, his tone jaded. “Money, Evie. You can have almost anything with enough of it.” He looked toward the bed, his body stilling. “I never stop learning that.”
“Of course,” she whispered. Even her.
Drifting over to the large bed, Ford picked up one of a multitude of pillows adorning it. The bed itself was maybe the prettiest thing in the room next to the flowers. The headboard boasted tufted upholstery in a cream, blue and silver pattern. The sides sloped in a sensuous line to the edges of the bed, curling a few inches around the mattress before giving way to fluffy duvet. A heap of pillows of all shapes and sizes lay invitingly at the head, all covered in crisp white shams with one lovely dusty-blue striped border to dress them up.
Her new bedroom was nicer than any picture of any hotel room she’d ever seen.
Dropping the pillow back onto the pile, Ford gave it a smack to fluff it. The noise reverberated around the peaceful room and a twang of excitement pulled again between Evie’s legs. She bit her lip and flicked her gaze to his face. The vibrant green of his eyes bore into hers and seemed to draw the breath from her, his eyes as magnetic as she’d ever seen them, in the dappled light from the grand windows.
There was a moment of silence as they stared at each other across the room, tension and unspoken things crowding the air between them. Sunlight filtered across his tall frame, touching him everywhere Evie wanted to. Blinking, she unlocked her eyes from his and followed the sun’s late morning rays across his body, appreciating every virile line of him. The powerful square of his jaw, the sharp curve of his cheek, the strong ledge of his eyebrows.
And his lips. Goddamn. He was almost hard to look at. She couldn’t seem to get enough air. Apprehension curled in her belly—sometimes the attraction she had for him scared her. In fact “attraction” was a wholly inadequate word. Fixation. Fascination. Obsession. Thrall… Feeling anything for Ford was a very bad idea, yet Evie took one unthinking step toward him and the bed anyway.
“Stop.” His voice was harsh and she froze, her weight on her front foot in preparation for another step in his direction. He glanced down at his hands and then away. “Don’t do that. If you’re going to live here, I have to be the one in control. It’s the only way it will work. We have to be careful.” He met her eyes, and his were pained, confusing her. “I cannot let this get out of hand or we might get confused. And neither of us will like what c
onfusion will lead to.”
“What?” she whispered.
“Blurring of the lines. Look, I like you Evie. You know that. But I’ve hired you to be here. We both must remember that. And I told you—I don’t do relationships. They don’t work for me, and trust me—” His voice grew emphatic. “A relationship with me would not work for you either. You’re going to have to take my word on that. If things were to move in that direction, away from these clear lines we’ve drawn, you would leave before the year is up.” He looked away again, his voice weaker. “You might leave anyway.”
Why would she leave? What did he have in store for her?
He was right, though, and she’d better listen to him, because she was having trouble controlling her feelings already. She was going to move far away after the year was up, and she didn’t want anything complicating that plan. Especially a complication as big as Ford Hawthorne, with all of his peculiar baggage. They were on the same team about that. She just needed to remember it.
He gestured to her right, back to business. “I should show you the closet. Women like closets, don’t they?” His voice was flat.
Breathing deeply, she turned stiffly in the direction he’d indicated, keeping her flushed face averted from him. She could feel her pulse in her throat.
“I’ll see about having your things brought up. Help should be arriving soon, I think.” She whirled back around as he looked at his watch and reached for the phone next to her bed.
“Oh, no! No need,” she called, waving her hand at him, and he hesitated, the phone halfway to his ear. “Really.” She tried to sound breezy. “I’ll do it myself. I don’t like people touching my stuff.”
He blinked and after a hesitation slowly put the phone back on the nightstand. That lovely nightstand. She could get used to these living arrangements and she didn’t want anything threatening this new adventure. If Ford found out she had no belongings in her car, he’d start asking questions she didn’t want to answer.
